The journey to the Obsidian Altar was grueling. The Sovereign and Kael moved through an expanse of desolation where the land seemed to groan under its own weight. The skies remained overcast, the dim light giving the world a gray, lifeless hue. For hours, they traveled in silence, the only sounds being the crunch of dry soil beneath their feet and the occasional hollow whistle of the wind.
Kael struggled to keep up. His injuries from the earlier fight with the bandits slowed him, and his steps grew uneven. The Sovereign, walking ahead, halted without turning.
"You are lagging," he said, his voice neither harsh nor sympathetic.
Kael stopped, gasping for breath. "I—I'm fine, Master. Just... catching my breath."
The Sovereign turned, his glowing crimson eyes fixing on Kael with a gaze that felt heavier than the world itself. "Strength is not merely the absence of weakness. It is the will to endure, even when the body falters."
Kael straightened, his expression determined. "I'll keep up."
Satisfied, the Sovereign resumed walking. "Good. You will need that resolve for what lies ahead."
The Abyss Stirs
As they drew closer to the Obsidian Altar, the air grew heavier, charged with an ancient, almost oppressive energy. Kael felt it pressing against his chest, making it harder to breathe. Shadows began to shift unnaturally, pooling in ways that defied the dim light.
"What... is this place?" Kael asked, his voice tinged with awe and fear.
The Sovereign didn't answer immediately. His gaze was fixed on the horizon, where the faint outline of a ruined structure came into view. "This is the boundary of the Abyss' reach. The remnants of its power linger here, though it has grown faint."
Kael furrowed his brow. "The Abyss? What is it?"
"The Abyss," the Sovereign said, his tone reverent yet grim, "is the origin of all that the Dominion stood for. A realm of infinite shadow and power, connected to the mortal world through the altar ahead. It is a wellspring of strength, but also of corruption. Only those who can master its chaos are worthy of wielding its gifts."
Kael fell silent, his mind racing. He had heard tales of dark cultivators who drew power from forbidden realms, but they had always been painted as monsters in the stories. Yet here he was, walking alongside one who spoke of such power as if it were sacred.
As they reached the base of a crumbling hill, the full sight of the Obsidian Altar came into view. It was a massive, circular platform made of jet-black stone, its surface cracked and worn. Pillars surrounded it, most of them broken, though a few still stood, their surfaces covered in faintly glowing runes.
At the center of the altar lay a massive, fractured crystal, its once-brilliant light now reduced to a faint flicker. The Sovereign approached it, his expression unreadable.
Rekindling the Flame
The Sovereign placed a hand on the crystal. Shadows surged outward from his touch, crawling across the surface of the altar and into the surrounding ruins. The air grew colder, and the faint hum of the crystal began to intensify.
Kael watched in awe as the runes on the altar began to glow brighter. The Sovereign's voice was low and commanding as he began to chant in an ancient tongue. The words resonated in the air, their meaning lost to Kael, but their power unmistakable.
The crystal flared, a pulse of energy rippling outward. Kael stumbled back, shielding his eyes as the light grew blinding. When it finally dimmed, the Sovereign stepped back, his crimson eyes reflecting the renewed glow of the altar.
"It is done," the Sovereign said, his voice tinged with satisfaction. "The Obsidian Altar is rekindled. Its power will grow with time, and it will serve as the heart of the Dominion once more."
Kael stepped forward cautiously. "But... it's still broken. How can we rebuild with just this?"
The Sovereign turned to him, his expression sharp. "Do not mistake a single spark for the whole flame. This altar is a conduit, a foundation. With it, we can begin to gather strength—relics, resources, disciples. The Dominion was not built in a day, and neither shall its rebirth be."
Kael nodded, though he still felt a pang of doubt. "So... what happens now?"
The First Lesson
The Sovereign walked to the edge of the altar, gazing out at the barren land beyond. "You begin your path as the first disciple of the new Dominion. But a disciple is not made through words or loyalty alone."
Kael stiffened. "What do I have to do?"
The Sovereign raised a hand, and shadows began to gather around him, forming into a long, curved blade of pure darkness. "You will fight."
Kael's eyes widened. "Fight you? But I—"
"You lack control, focus, and strength," the Sovereign interrupted. "The dark Qi within you is untamed. If you do not master it, it will consume you. Better to die here than to fail later."
Kael swallowed hard, his heart pounding. He gripped the hilt of his broken sword tightly. "If this is what it takes... then I'll do it."
The Sovereign gave a faint nod of approval. "Good. Begin."
Kael charged forward, swinging his sword with all his might. The Sovereign didn't move, his blade of shadows absorbing the blow effortlessly. Kael stumbled back, gritting his teeth, and launched another attack, only to be met with the same result.
"Strength without precision is wasted," the Sovereign said coldly. "Do not swing blindly. Feel the flow of your Qi. Control it."
Kael took a deep breath, focusing on the chaotic energy within him. He tried to guide it, to push it into his strikes. The next swing of his sword carried a faint shimmer of dark energy, and this time, the Sovereign parried instead of absorbing the blow.
"Better," the Sovereign said. "Again."
They continued for what felt like hours, Kael attacking and the Sovereign countering with ease. By the end, Kael was on his knees, drenched in sweat and gasping for air. The Sovereign stood over him, his expression unreadable.
"You have potential," he said finally. "But potential is meaningless without effort. Rest now. Tomorrow, your training will begin in earnest."
Kael nodded weakly, his chest heaving. As he lay on the altar, staring up at the gray sky, a small flicker of hope stirred within him. For the first time, he felt that his curse might truly be a gift.
The Sovereign turned back to the crystal, his gaze distant. The road ahead was long, but the first step had been taken.
End of Chapter 2